


It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

by Tinnean



Series: Hecate House [1]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, Holiday, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:31:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinnean/pseuds/Tinnean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair inherits a house with a less than savory reputation. He goes to inspect it, and Jim goes along to keep an eye on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

## It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

by Tinnean

Author's website:  <http://www.angelfire.com/fl5/tinnssinns/>

You know the routine. *Not* mine. Petfly has dibs on them. But they'd really be much happier in my world. 

This first appeared in the e-zine The Many Halloween Tales of the Sentinel. Thanks to Mary for the excellent beta. Any errors are strictly mine.  
The town of Lansdale belongs to Scribe, but she very kindly lent it to me. Thanks, Scribe.  
And to Silk and Gail for their continuous support and help, mille grazzi.  


Hecate is pronounced hek-a-tee. She's the Greek goddess of the crossroads, and seems to have gotten a bit of a bum rap, as she has been misperceived as the goddess of witchcraft or evil. She did get Persephone out of the Underworld. 

* * *

It wasn't my fault. I told Jim that. 

I told him that a dozen times! 

Well, all right, that's a bit of an exaggeration. It was actually eleven times! 

But it really wasn't my fault! 

See, I had this last minute meeting set up with a student. What? Oh yeah, female, but what does that have to say about anything? I mean, I'm a TA up at Rainier, and I have to meet with students, right? She was unhappy with the latest grade I had given her, and wanted to know what she could do to ace the course. 

Do the reading and pass the tests; I could have told her over the phone. But she insisted on seeing me in person. Why, yes, she was very nicely built, now that you mention it. 

Why _did_ you mention it? _Hey_! I am _not_ that kind of teacher! 

Now where was I? Oh, yeah, about to tell you how I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or the right place at the wrong time. Or...Fuck it. 

What happened was that I was almost out of gas, so I thought I'd fill up before I made the run to the university. And _that's_ how it all started! 

See? Not my fault at all! 

* * *

I was at the Union 76 gas station, tanking up the ol' Volvo when this dusty black SUV pulled up at the next pump. 

"Fill 'er up, kid," the driver told me. 

"Hey, this is self-serve, man!" And I suddenly found myself facing a cannon. I kid you not, man! The gun looked like a fucking _cannon_! "Okay, okay. Regular?" 

He sneered at me. "Premium, kid!" He popped the gas tank and lit a cigarette, scanning the area like he was expecting company. Which, as it turned out, he was. 

I shut off the pump and went to the driver's side window. "That's $27.50, man." Would you believe he had the nerve to hand me a fifty? But he had that cannon in his lap, so I went inside, paid for his gas, and returned to give him his change. 

Only, by that time, things on the highway were becoming interesting. Of course I didn't see that. Well, I had other things on my mind. And no, it was not the busty blonde who was waiting in that cubbyhole I laughingly call my office. 

If you must know, I was thinking about that hard-assed cop who's also my roommate. He rags me about being a real horn dog, and how I'd even hump a table leg, but for months now the only time I sported wood at all was when I was near him. 

Or like now, when I was thinking of him. Because, you see, there was something I never told my roommate when I first moved in. Actually, I kinda...prefer guys. 

I sighed and rounded the rear bumper of the SUV, holding out the tough guy's change, when all of a sudden somebody started shooting off fireworks. I stopped to look around. It wasn't one of those really great holidays like the Fourth of July, or Memorial Day, when you could set off blockbusters or M80s, or good stuff like that. As a matter of fact, Halloween was just a couple of days away. 

All right, I should have known. I mean, I've been Ellison's sidekick for a while now. What can I tell you? I think of him, and all rational thought flies out the window. 

The driver's door flew open, and the guy yanked me into the front seat. "Start driving!" he snarled at me, and he leaned over the bucket seat to start firing that cannon of his out the back window. Glass shattered and tinkled to the ground. 

And that's when I realized that it wasn't fireworks I was hearing, it was fire*arms*. 

"Uh..." 

"I said _drive_ , kid, or I'll blow your fucking head off!" 

Hey, Naomi, my mom, might have been a free spirit, but she didn't raise no stupid children! I drove. 

I ducked my head down, hunched my shoulders and prayed to every deity I had come across in my studies and on my travels. 

"Hard right, soon as we cross that bridge!" my kidnapper ordered, curled low in the seat to reload. He whirled back to fire again, and just as I swung the wheel, I heard the sodden splat that signified a hit. 

He groaned softly and just sort of folded in on himself. I whipped my head around and watched in horror as he reached into his overcoat and withdrew a hand covered in blood. 

"Pull over, kid," the injured man whispered hoarsely. I did as he said, then threw the truck into park and ripped aside his coat. The entry hole wasn't large, maybe the size of my pinky nail, but I knew the exit wound would be big enough to drive the SUV through. Saving him would be an exercise in futility, and I didn't even try. I just lowered the seat and tried to make him comfortable. 

Every man's death diminishes me, y'know? 

He started to cough, and sprayed blood over himself, and me. "Looks like... these... are the... breaks, kid. Here." He pulled out a stained envelope and thrust it at me, trying to grin. I took it from him and he slumped sideways, his head hitting the doorframe. 

I couldn't stay in the SUV. My hand, slick with blood, scrabbled for the handle, then got the door opened. I looked at the envelope, turning it over and over in my hands. It was covered with bloody fingerprints by this time. I slid my thumbnail under the flap and sliced it open. Inside was a rather official looking document. 

I didn't know it, but my troubles were just starting. 

* * *

It was too much to hope Jim wouldn't have heard about the little excitement. By the time I made my way to Major Crimes I knew my prayers had not been answered. 

"You were kidnapped again, weren't you, Chief? I can't let you out of my sight for five _freaking_ seconds!" 

I didn't even have a chance to hang up my jacket. I scowled at my sentinel. "It wasn't my fault, Jim!" 

"This would not have happened if you'd just stayed at home, like you told me you were going to do!" 

"What am I, the little woman?" I didn't like the look that was suddenly in his eyes. "I had to meet with a student. It was a last minute thing. That was the only time she had available." 

Jim muttered something under his breath. 

"What did you just say? I'm not the one with Sentinel hearing you know, Big Guy." 

"I said, 'Of course you made yourself available for _her_!' You are such a horn dog, Sandburg!" 

Didn't I tell you that's what he thinks of me? "Not fair, Ellison. It wasn't my fault! Simon! Tell him it wasn't my fault!" 

The big, black police captain flashed me a grin. Dutifully he recited, "It wasn't his fault, Jim." Oh, he was so loving this! 

"Do the letters F O ring a bell, Captain?" I threw myself in the chair behind my desk. "I'm sick and tired of taking the blame for something I had no control over!" I figured it was time to drop my bombshell. "Simon, I need to take some time off." 

Jim gave me the fisheye. "Why?" 

"I don't have to answer that! You're not the boss of me, James Ellison!" I turned my nose up at him and found the other members of MC listening avidly. "What, has there suddenly been a lull in criminal activity in Cascade? Don't you guys have anything better to do?" As one, they all shook their heads, and I huffed in annoyance. 

"Sandburg..." Uh oh. That was the tone Jim took when I was pushing him too far. Lately he'd taken to threatening me with corporal punishment if I didn't behave. Geez, you would have thought he was my daddy. 

My father! I meant my father! 

"Oh, all right," I said petulantly. "I inherited some property up the coast, and I have to go check it out." 

"How'd you get in line for an inheritance, hairboy?" Henri Brown was noshing on a powdered donut, and a ring of white outlined his mouth. 

"That's really obscene, H!" I curled my lip at him, but he just smiled. "Actually, talk about a weird situation: the hood who kidnapped me carried his last will and testament around with him. How's that for paranoia striking deep? The will said that because he couldn't trust anyone to stick by him when the shit hit the fan, he was leaving everything he had amassed to whoever was with him when he cashed in his chips." 

"And that was you? My, my, I am impressed!" Megan gave me an Aussie grin. Look, I can't explain it; it's something you have to see to get! But it was as Australian as 'G'day, mate!' I blew her a kiss, just to irritate her. And kinda to see if the big guy would react. 

He didn't, and I sighed. 

"He really said 'amassed'?" Brian Rafe was fighting back a grin. "Wow. I didn't know the scum of the earth even _knew_ words like that!" 

"You're so funny, Rafe! Too bad I forgot to laugh!" 

"Who was the bad guy, Chief? Anyone we'd know?" 

I shrugged. "Name was William Bonney. Didn't ring a bell with me." 

" _Buck_ Bonney? He's the one who bit the big one?" 

"Buck?" I tried to make a funny. "You'd think his nickname would have been Billy the Kid!" 

Jim looked sick. "You were kidnapped by Buck Bonney?" He was beside me before I even knew he planned to move, running his hands over my body. "Are you all right, Chief?" 

I batted Jim's hands away from my chest and shoulders, and somehow they wound up patting down my ass. I mean, right there in the bullpen of Major Crimes! 

I had to pull up images of some really graphic sacrificial ceremonies, y'know? Hearts getting ripped out and stuff like that, or Ellison would have wondered why I was suddenly shedding pheromones like there was no tomorrow and half of today was already gone. 

That's one of the major disadvantages of rooming with a Sentinel: all those enhanced senses. It's difficult concealing how turned on I get when his hands are _thisclose_ to a part of my anatomy that would like nothing better than to be even closer to a part of _his_ anatomy...a very _hard_ part of his anatomy... 

Um, what did I say I was doing? Oh, yeah. Trying not to let Jim know how turned on I was by having his hands on me. 

So I smacked his hands away from me, when what I really wanted to do was plant them on my ass and rub my cock against his front and see if I could get him interested in getting naked ...hot...and sweaty...and naked... with me. 

"I'm fine, Jim. I washed off most of the blood, which wasn't mine, I might add. Anyway, because I was with Bonney at the time of his demise, I inherit everything." 

"Even the cash?" Megan was starting to look interested. 

"There's cash?" 

"Oh, yeah! Word on the street was he was in bed with some Feds and had help in knocking over a Federal Reserve branch!" 

"Wow. No sh...kidding? All the shyster told me was I own a big old house somewhere between Cascade and Lansdale." 

"Well, from what I understood, he had a lot of dough. We busted a crook who had _thoroughly_ tossed the place, but never found a penny." 

"Didn't I hear Bonney always said he kept his money in his head?" Simon asked thoughtfully. 

Every single one of us turned to look at the police captain, and I'd swear his cheeks darkened even more with a blush. He cleaned his throat and stuck his cigar in his mouth. 

"Well, I have to stay there a few days to decide whether I want to keep it or sell it. From what I understand, it's been empty since Bonney went East some years back to do some work for the Syndicate there. Can I go, Cap, can I, can I?" 

"Don't whine, Sandburg. Yes, you can go.' He raised his hand. " _Not_ alone, however. That old place has been deserted for years, and before that, it never had the best of reputations. Evil doings happened out at Hecate House." 

I shouldn't have laughed. I mean, I'm an anthropologist, man, a professional! And it wasn't fair to Simon, especially when he was only looking out for my best interests. But... "Hecate? Hecate, bobbity, boo?" 

He scowled at me and chomped down so fiercely on his cigar that he bit clear through and the end fell to the floor. "Ellison, get this...this..." 

"Neo hippy witch doctor punk?" Jim offered helpfully. Simon glared at him and pointed to the exit. I almost expected to hear him declare we were never to darken his doorway again. 

" _Out_! And make sure you're back by the beginning of next week at the latest!" 

"Yes, master! Yes, master!" I grabbed up my jacket just as Jim gave me a shove. Only somehow he misjudged the distance and his hand was on my butt again. I pretended not to notice, hoping that might encourage him to keep his hand where it was. 

And to my surprise, he did. 

I bit my lip to prevent a startled yelp from escaping, and cut him a glance over my shoulder. His smile was innocent, but his eyes...Jesus, they were hot! 

The angle of his body prevented anyone from seeing that he was actually copping a feel! I could feel my heart beat speed up to a rumba beat. Thank God the elevator was empty. I hurried in and watched him warily, but he just stabbed his finger on the button to go to the parking garage and backed up a step, looking blandly at the screen above the doors that displayed the floors. 

The doors slid shut, and I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes, indulging in my favorite elevator fantasy, the one where James Joseph Ellison crowded me into a corner of the car, that big, buff body stretched along every centimeter of mine, sporting an impressive hard-on of his own. 

God, I loved that fantasy! 

"You know what happens to little boys who play with fire?" he'd ask conversationally, and my mouth would go dry. 

I'd be so bombarded by sensations that I wouldn't know which one to savor first. 

Definitely that cock pressing against mine, causing my cock to start leaking precome. 

Then again, his hands doing marvelous things to my chest, even though they hadn't gotten under my shirt yet was an excellent option. My nipple ring would just be begging to be tugged gently. 

Or maybe his lips, grazing over my neck to my ear, biting down with just enough pressure to let me know he was in control. 

And his nostrils _flaring_ , as if he were scenting me. 

All of a sudden it would become too much. With a moan his mouth would be there to swallow, I would come in my jeans, in the elevator. 

Of course, none of that happened. The car pinged, signaling that we had reached our destination. I straightened up with a satisfied sigh and opened my eyes. 

To meet Jim's as he watched me through the mirrored panels of the elevator. 

* * *

The lawyer promised me the beds at Hecate House were in decent enough shape. I mean they wouldn't collapse under our weight, or anything. 

But the sheets were probably moldy and mildewy after all this time, even if the mice hadn't gotten to them. I packed sheets and blankets and pillows, and towels as well. Because of Jim's enhanced senses, I didn't want him on anything but his own stuff. 

Now, hold on a minute, that's just friends being concerned for friends. That's all it is! 

And to tell the truth, I didn't relish the idea of sleeping on something that mice had... functioned... on. 

The electric company promised to have the power turned on, but the weather channel was tracking a seriously heinous system. I took a supply of candles and lanterns, just in case. 

"How come, Chief?" Jim asked, poking through the paraffin and fuel oil. "I've got flashlights." 

"I've been caught short out in the field too often, Jim. Never hurts to be too careful." 

Jim helped me haul the boxes down, but he insisted _he_ was going to drive, so we loaded his truck. He had always been a touchy-feely kind of guy, but since the elevator he was taking every opportunity to get in my space, and that was making me _majorly_ nervous. Had I done something stupid, like moan his name out loud? 

Or out soft? Being a Sentinel, it wouldn't have made any difference, he'd have heard anyway. 

I decided to do my best ostrich impression. I didn't know what I had done to cause him to become like that. And I wasn't sure I wanted to know. 

We stopped at the grocery store to get enough food for a few days and a case of bottled water, and fastened a tarp over the supplies in the back of the truck. 

I got into the front seat and buckled up. Jim drove out onto the interstate and set the truck on cruise control. It was about a four-hour drive to Hecate House, a straight run on I 5. 

Jim turned the radio on. Santana was just singing the chorus of Evil Ways, and his shoulders started swaying, and he began to sing along, tapping on the steering wheel. 

"You've got to change your evil ways, ba-by, before I stop lo-ving you!" 

I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. He caught my glance and stopped in mid-verse. And he blushed! How cute was that? But I could hear him humming under his breath. 

The song finished and something else came on. I listened impatiently for a second, then changed the station. The song blasted out of the speakers. "Cum on feel the noize, girls rock your boys..." 

Now _I_ was singing, "We'll get wild, wild, wild!" when Jim snapped the radio off. 

"Do you have any idea how long it took me to find a station that plays as much Santana as that one did?" 

"Aw, man, that's vintage rock!" One look and I subsided. I stared out the side window and didn't say another word. 

But four hours is a long time for me not to say anything, and after a few minutes I got over it and turned to face him. To find he was giving me sideways glances that curled my hair. I mean, my hair was already curly, but...Oh, you know what I mean! 

My left leg propped comfortably on the bench seat and my arm draped over the back, I decided that maybe it was time to face the music. And I didn't mean Santana. 

But there he sat, behind that freaking steering wheel, looking so competent, and so gorgeous, that instead of having a heart to heart, I slid into my very favorite driving down the highway with no particular place to go fantasy. 

Jim would keep his eyes on the road ahead of us. Rain would have started sheeting down, and the least distraction could see us winding up in a ditch. He wouldn't want this baby to suffer the fate of his other vehicles. For some reason, Cascade proved to be really hard on his transportation. 

But he'd be smiling; a soft, self-satisfied smile, and my cock would quiver and start to harden. 

Jim would pull over to the shoulder and put the truck in neutral, and all innocent, I'd pretend to look around in confusion. 

"Did we get a flat?" 

He'd shake his head. 

"Then why'd you stop?" 

"Because if I didn't, I was afraid I'd wreck the truck!" The big detective would take my hand and press it to his crotch. "Do you know what you smell like, Sandburg?" 

I'd feel heat climb up into my cheeks. "Ah, hell, man, I showered! And you helped me carry those damned boxes down to the pickup, so I didn't even break a sweat!" 

His big hand would reach around my neck and drag me as close as the seatbelt would allow. "You smell of sex, Chief. Hot... sweaty... desperate... fuck me now sex!" 

My eyes would drift shut and my lips part, and I knew, I _knew_ I'd look as if I were begging to be kissed. He'd laugh softly. 

"And _that's_ why I had to pull over!" His hand would run through my hair, loosening the thong. The moisture in the air would make my hair frizz, and he'd snag his fingers in it. 

There would be a snick as he released my seatbelt, loud in the silence of the truck, and the next thing I'd know, I'd be half in my partner's lap, my back against the steering wheel. 

I'd grab onto his shoulders for balance, strictly reflexive, y'know? and my lips would be parted in surprise. I swear it, man! Just surprise! You can't believe I'd _want_ his tongue in my mouth, can you? 

Oh, you can, huh? Well, all right, you got me. 

But my, oh my, how that man would know how to kiss, and he'd have me melting in a puddle of satisfaction. The heel of his hand would begin to apply a little judicious pressure to my groin, rubbing and kneading and... And damned if he wouldn't've done it to me again! With a muffled groan, I'd come. In my jeans. 

I sighed as I emerged from that fantasy. If it had really happened, I'd have been in deep shit. I only brought a couple extra pairs of sweats with me, and I'd run out of clean pants really fast. 

I snuggled into my seat, when Jim really did pull over to the shoulder of the Interstate. "Problem, big guy?" 

He gave me a peculiar look. "Um, rest stop?" 

I couldn't help teasing him. "Told you you should've gone before we left." 

"Chief..." 

I looked at him expectantly. 

"Never mind. We'll discuss this when we get to the House." He walked stiffly into the brush that bordered the road, and I wondered if he had developed a cramp in his leg. 

Oh well, his absence gave me a change to adjust myself discreetly. 

And I was dismayed to see a patch of dampness on the front of my jeans. 

Oh man, how embarrassing is that? Was it possible, do you suppose, that Jim was unaware of my lustful fantasy? Nah, he was a Sentinel. He'd have smelled my arousal. 

Maybe I could convince him that I'd been thinking of Maya? 

And a little voice in my brain suggested that maybe pigs could fly. 

* * *

It was dark by the time we pulled up in front of Hecate House. But light spilled through curtains that hung, in tatters like Miss Haversham's wedding gown, over the windows on the first floor. Jim had his arm across my chest, barring any progress, pushing me behind him as he drew his police issue gun from his shoulder holster. 

I was right behind him, armed with a three-foot pepperoni. Well, it was all I could find to use as a weapon. As he climbed the steps up to the porch that wrapped around the old house, someone could be seen through the frosted window in the door. 

The door was flung open. "I thought I heard a car drive up. Oh my!" He recoiled at the sight of Jim's pistol. 

The blond man who stood there was dressed in a neat charcoal grey suit. The jacket had been removed and his sleeves rolled up, but the vest was neatly buttoned and his tie was snug beneath his adam's apple. 

"Mr. Neumann? I had no idea you were planning to come here. Jim, this is Alfred Neumann, Buck Bonney's attorney." 

I could feel the antagonism roll off Jim in waves. "Neumann, huh?" 

The lawyer's mouth took on a pinched look. "I assure you my middle initial is _not_ E." 

Jim looked blank, and I nudged his arm. "You know, 'What, me worry?'" The light still didn't go on and I shrugged. "So, you haven't answered my question, Mr. Neumann. What are you doing here?" 

"I had no idea you'd be here this soon, and things needed to be seen to before you took possession of this fine, old mansion." 

"You didn't say anything about that this morning." 

He shrugged, and gave a somewhat sickly smile. "I must have forgotten to mention it. Please, gentlemen do come in. I wasn't expecting _anyone_ ," he assured us a little too emphatically, "but I'm sure I have enough food to share." 

"Not a problem, Neumann. We brought our own food." Jim re-holstered his weapon and turned back to the truck. He unhooked the tarpaulin and reached in to casually remove two boxes. Giving the lawyer a cool stare, he climbed up the steps and strode with an easy gait past the other man. 

I stood there admiring the smooth flow of his muscles until I realized the shyster was regarding me intently. 

I met his glance, and the smile on my face faded and changed to a Black Ops' glare I had seen Jim use a hundred times. It was the look that said, 'Don't even _think_ of fucking with me or you'll find out what your left testicle tastes like!' 

And damned if it didn't work! 

The prissy lawyer paled and turned to hurry back into the lighted house. The corner of my mouth kicked up in a satisfied grin. I blew on my nails and dusted them on my shoulder, then picked up the box of bed linens, stacked it on the case of water and climbed the steps, unfortunately nowhere near as easily as my partner. Who'da thought water would be that heavy! 

"In here, Blair!" Jim called as I hesitated in the hall. I followed the sound of his voice and found myself in a roomy dining area. Thankfully, I set my burden down on a table and looked around to examine our surroundings. 

Jim was in the kitchen, which was separated from the dining room by an island that could be sealed off with folding shutters. He was stocking the shelves of a pantry with our canned goods. 

"Why don't you let me handle that, big guy? You can lock up the truck and then see about finding us someplace to sleep and making up the beds." 

"Oh, yes," the lawyer interjected. "You can park your vehicle around the back. I'll show you where the sleeping quarters are as soon as you return." 

"You making dinner, Chief?" I nodded. "Just nothing that comes out of an animal's mouth, or anything that needs to be eaten raw, okay?" 

He did that on purpose, to put that sick look on Neumann's face. "Yes, dear," I called after him. The lawyer gave me an odd look. "What?" I stashed some bottles of water in the fridge. 

"Um, your...uh, Jim, I believe you said? Does he always carry a pistol with him?" 

"He's a cop, Mr. Neumann. He'd sooner be caught naked in beautiful, downtown Cascade than be without his gun." 

"You felt it was necessary to bring a policeman with you?" That was interesting: why was the lawyer getting his boxers in a twist about Jim being here? Or was it just the fact that I wasn't here alone? 

"Nah, Jim likes to take care of me. It was his idea to come along." For some reason I was reluctant to let the other man know my roommate had been instructed by his captain to accompany me. It stung a little that he wouldn't have wanted to come on his own. 

His face became even more pinched. "He's your... _friend_?" The emphasis Neumann put on the word led me to believe that was not exactly what he would have liked to call him. 

"You bet your ass!" I responded sunnily. "And he does take good care of mine!" 

"There's a parking lot out back where I left the truck." Jim came strolling in before I could really warm up to my tale. A fine mist had beaded in his hair and eyelashes, and he shook his head to free himself of some of the moisture. 

"Hey, sweetie. Dry yourself off." I threw him a towel and smiled at the lawyer. "Jim doesn't get sick often, but when he does he's a beast! The world's worst patient!" 

One thing I'll say for Jim, he's quick on the uptake. He saw the way my eyes cut toward the lawyer, who was behind him, and fell right in with my little deception. "Thanks, SnuggyBlair." 

He turned to face the lawyer, vigorously rubbing the towel over his hair. Which for some reason he insisted on keeping so freaking short. 

As he chatted with the other man, I slid easily into my favorite kitchen fantasy. Those big hands of his, fitting comfortably around my hips, would hoist me up onto the kitchen counter, nudging my knees apart so he could make a space for himself. He'd fit himself against me, one hand threading through my hair and pulling my head back, while the other would find its way under the layers of flannel I wore, and squeeze my nipples until they were hard little nubs. 

He would lick my neck and then blow softly, causing me to shiver from the sensation, and I'd rock against him. "Touch me!" I'd demand in a soft whisper, and he would abandon my nipples to raise my hips and slide my sweats off them. My cock would spring up hard and glistening with precome, and he'd wrap that big hand around me, fondling me. His mouth would cover mine and he'd swallow the moans he was taking such delight in wringing from me. 

He'd release my mouth and angle back to watch his next actions. His middle finger would collect the moisture that beaded at the tip of my cock, and Jim would stick that finger in his mouth and begin sucking it. Then he would stroke it across my lips until I parted them, and he would slide it into my mouth, teasing my tongue. A second finger would join it, and soon he would be fucking my mouth with them, while his other hand stroked and caressed my cock. 

Forcing my gaze to remain locked on his, he would make me come, watching as my eyes became unfocused from the power of my orgasm. Dipping his head, his eyes still on mine, he would lick the hot, white liquid that coated his palm, then fasten his mouth to mine, and I would taste myself on his tongue. 

He would stroke my hair off my forehead and say, "Blair, I..." 

"...didn't know that, did you, Chief?" 

"Huh? What?" I looked at him blankly. 

"Did you know that this used to be a whorehouse?" 

The lawyer's expression was pained. "A house of ill fame, _please_ , Mr. Ellison!" 

Jim's nostrils were flaring again, but before I could start to feel uneasy, he shrugged. "Whatever. When will dinner be ready, Chief?" 

I licked my lips. "Fifteen minutes?" It was meant to be a statement, because, after all, that's how long it would take until I put the meal on the table. Instead it came out as a kind of squeaky question. 

He grinned. "I'll just go on upstairs and pick us out a nice, comfy room, okay, snugs?" 

_Snugs_? Oh, I'd make him pay for that! 

He was in the hallway where the staircase leading up to the second floor was, when the lights went out. 

* * *

"I'll...uh...I'll just see if I can find the fuse box, shall I?" Alfred Neumann stood fidgeting by the island. 

A number of lanterns had been lit and fitful shadows flickered on the walls, and across the lawyer's face. I was busy crumbling chopped meat into the frying pan that sat on a small camp stove, and I glanced up, surprised. "You know where that is in this house?" 

"Oh...er...yes. I...er...had the builder's specs at my office." He took a flashlight and quickly disappeared through a door, which I had thought was another pantry. It actually led down to the basement. 

"Woulda been nice if he'd given me the freaking plans while I was there," I muttered to myself, slicing up a beefsteak tomato while the meat browned. 

Jim walked back into the kitchen. 

"That was quick." 

He shook his head. "Damn flashlight died on me! Where'd I put the batteries?" 

I paused, the knife hovering over the tomato, about to make another slice. "Batteries?" 

"Ah, hell. D'you mean to say we forgot the batteries?" 

"What you mean 'we,' white man?" I snickered and pointed to a lantern. "That's all filled with oil. Just light it and you're good to go." I went back to the tomato, but my motions were not as brisk as they might have been. "Um, Jim? Thanks for going along with me on that one. I didn't realize Neumann was such an asshole when I first met him. Although come to think of it, maybe I should've." 

He propped his hip on a stool that was on the dining room side of the island and filched a slice of tomato. "No problem, snugs." Jim chuckled as I pointed the paring knife at him threateningly. "What made you think the guy was a jerk?" 

I stirred the meat in the frying pan on the little camp stove, then poured in the canned mix. "I'll tell you the truth, Jim. I was still kind of shaken when I was introduced to him in his office, y'know, after the shoot out and everything? So I didn't catch the significance of his name at first. All I got was that snooty, 'My middle initial is not _E_ ' shit. So I said, 'Alfred, huh? So, what's it all about, Alfie?'" 

A piece of tomato shot out of his mouth as he sputtered with laughter. And I suddenly felt ten feet tall. Quickly I ducked my head back down and concentrated on putting the red circles on a paper plate. 

"Sandburg, you're priceless! I wish I could have been there." 

My smile faded. I wished he could have been there, also. I conjured up another smile. "What'dya say we eat?" 

"Shouldn't we wait for the lawyer?" 

"Ah, fuck Neumann. He can eat his own food when he gets back." 

There was a pause and then, "Where is he?" Jim took the roll I had sliced for him and opened it. He began to spoon the Sloppy Joe mixture onto it. 

"He went down the basement to check the fuse box. Jim." I looked up from the roll I had been preparing for myself. "This whole thing bothers me. He didn't say anything about coming out here, for any reason at all. As a matter of fact, he told me there was no rush to check the place out." 

"Y'know something, Chief? I'm kind of surprised he even knows what a fuse is for. He doesn't exactly strike me as someone who can do-it-himself." He took a bite of his sandwich. I started to hand him a paper napkin so he could wipe the sauce off his chin, and the napkin hung there, just short of his reach. The desire to lick that bit of sauce off his face was so strong I almost moaned from the need. "Uh, Chief, the napkin?" 

I snapped out of my daze and gave it to him. "Sorry. I... uh...I was thinking of something else." I could feel the heat in my cheeks. 

"Uh huh." Jim took the bottle of water I had set beside his plate and chugged down about half of it. "Well, I don't know what the fuck that guy is doing, but whatever it is, he's not doing it in the basement!" 

My head shot up. "You can't hear him?" 

"Not a sound, Chief!" 

"Man, this is too twisted for color TV!" 

"And I'll tell you something else, Blair. After I parked the truck? I did a little recon. There isn't another car anywhere on the property!" 

* * *

Jim did a quick search outside, while I checked the basement. Man, talk about creepy. And those shadows cast by the lantern didn't help matters. Fear of the dark had never been a phobia for me, not like heights. 

But something was really weird about that basement: I kept getting the feeling that eyes were watching me. I began to get this pins and needles sensation at the back of my neck, and I kept looking over my shoulder really quickly, positive that if I could just move fast enough I'd catch whoever was lurking behind me. 

I got more and more nervous, my mouth feeling as if it was filled with dust. I needed to pee in the worst way; fight or flight, y'know? Finally deciding that the only thing down there was shadows and...shadows, I went back up to the kitchen. And if I was climbing those stairs at something slower than a full gallop, well, I really needed to check with Jim and see what he had discovered. 

I was waiting in the kitchen for my Sentinel when he came back in, drenched to the skin, his jacket having afforded no protection from the rain whatsoever. 

"No sign of the shyster anywhere, Chief. You have any luck?" 

I shook my head but said nothing. I didn't want Jim to know what a baby I had been down there, scared half to death. "You'd better change out of those wet things before you catch your death of cold!" 

"Ah, you care. I'm touched!" He ducked the half-hearted swing I took at him and ruffled my hair. I was sure it was just my imagination that made it seem as if his hand lingered there. "Let's see what else is on this floor before we check out the upstairs. It'll only take a second, Chief, and then I'll get into some dry clothes, I promise!" 

"Okay, fine." We went into the room across the hall, which appeared to be a parlor or sitting room, or something. That was probably where the girls waited for their gentlemen callers. A huge fireplace took up one wall, and the only reason why I didn't contemplate my favorite making love before a roaring fire fantasy was because I wanted Jim out of what he had on _fast_. 

I really _didn't_ want him hanging around in clothes that dripped and shoes that squished. Hey, I can be altruistic with the best of 'em, when I put my mind to it! 

"Would you look at that?" There was a touch of awe in the big detective's voice, and the lantern in his hand was raised high. I followed his line of sight to see what had so impressed him. 

Above the fireplace was a deer's head, with a really impressive rack of antlers. The buck must have been in his prime when he was taken, and it broke my heart to see such a magnificent animal destroyed simply to provide decoration in someone's living room. 

The brown glass that replaced his eyes seemed to follow me reproachfully, and I shivered in spite of myself. "Um, I think maybe we should go up to bed soon, huh, Jim?" 

The look in the big detective's eyes made me swallow hard. If I hadn't swallowed, I would have started drooling all over myself. He slung his arm over my shoulder and tugged me toward the stairs. "Sure, Chief. Let's go." I would have sworn I felt him drop a kiss in my hair, but I must have been mistaken. 

Mustn't I? 

We decided to put off exploring the second floor until the next morning because the lanterns didn't cast enough light to see much of anything. Jim selected a bedroom that was rather utilitarian: bed, dresser, armoire. I looked longingly at his bed, wanting nothing more than to share it with him, but I didn't think he'd be too amenable to that particular idea. 

Instead, I picked a room that was just through the connecting bath. It was furnished much the same as Jim's, only there was a closet in the corner. Since I didn't have anything that needed to be hung up, I slung my duffel in front of it to get it out of the way. I made up my bed as fast as I could, surprised that there wasn't more dust considering how long it had been since anyone had used the place. 

I glanced thoughtfully at the john as I passed through the bathroom and went to help my roommate finish with his bed. "Say, Jim, if we don't have power, what are the odds we've got working plumbing?" 

He grinned as he smoothed his side of the blanket. "Slim to none, Chief? No worries though. I noticed an outhouse on the edge of the parking lot." 

I scowled at him. "You've been hanging out with Megan too much, Blessed Protector of mine!" I grumbled under my breath about having to make the trip to the little boys' room at night. In the dark. In the rain. 

"Chief," he remarked patiently, "it's got four walls! You've been out in the field. You had to have used facilities that were even more primitive than this!" 

"Yeah, but...Fuck! At least I had some time to get used to the idea then!" 

"Don't whine, snugs. C'mon. Let's go make sure the House is locked up." 

"Ellison!" I followed him down the stairs. "Call me that one more time..." 

He grinned back at me over his shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen. I scuffed a Nike on the stair tread. That seemed to be my lot in life: never the lover, ever the friend. I followed him morosely. 

* * *

I came back from a visit to that outhouse, soaking wet and chilled to the bone. The storm had settled in with a vengeance, and rain cascaded over the house. Wind blew it fiercely against the windows, sounding like ghostly fingers tapping on the panes. 

After stripping off my sopping clothes and draping them over the furniture, I scrabbled through my duffle to find a pair of boxers, and walked into the bathroom. Setting the lantern down beside the sink, I began rubbing a towel over the hair on my chest. I wondered if Jim would ever want to run his fingers through it, or if he'd think I was ... _too_ ...hairy. Would I be willing to shave my body hair? If the big guy asked me? Damned straight I would! 

My movements became more languid, and just like that, I was in my favorite showering with my lover fantasy. 

I would be fiddling with the taps, trying to get the water temperature just right, when I'd feel as if someone was watching me. I would pretend not to notice and turn on the shower, then climb into the tub. 

My eyes would be scrunched shut as I shampooed my hair. Ropes of lather would slide over my chest and down my back, and I'd be able to feel it flow over the curves of my ass. The water would have the hair on my chest plastered down, and my nipples would be peeking out just in time to get hidden by the suds. 

I'd spread my legs, just a bit. Only so I wouldn't lose my sense of balance, you understand. And then all of a sudden, another pair of hands would be gently massaging my scalp. I'd sigh and lean back, to feel a very hard cock nudging against the crack of my ass. One of those hands would leave my head and swirl the lather down over my chest, shaping my pecs, teasing my nipples. My dick would be jutting up toward my belly, wanting its share of the attention. 

And those clever fingers would make their way to the head of my cock and caress, and fondle, and pull until I was quivering on the brink of coming. Jim would bend me forward, just enough so that he could slick my hole with the soap. I would feel the tip of his cock pressing forward, and he'd slam past the ring of muscle, hitting my prostate on the first shot. 

And he'd have that beautiful cock of his fucking me, seriously fucking me, until I would be begging and pleading with him to let me come. But he'd keep me hanging there on the edge. His hands would be hard on my hips, and I'd be bent over at the waist, and he'd be plunging into me, again and again and again. Finally he'd have me howling like a banshee as he filled my passage with his come... 

I opened my eyes and looked into the mirror. The light of the lantern reflected in their blue depths, and they looked a little wild. Struggling to regain my breath, I mopped up the mess I had made on the vanity. That had been...intense. Never before had I fantasized about my roommate actually penetrating me. 

I scrubbed at my face while I prayed that I hadn't wakened Jim, but when I put my ear to the connecting door, I didn't hear anything. Not that I was the one with Sentinel hearing. I turned the lantern down really low, making it into a sort of night-light, and walked back into my room. It was so dark in there it was like entering a dungeon. 

I raised the covers on the bed to slide under them, just as there was a flash of lightning. 

For a moment I froze. And then I was so thrilled I could hardly speak. Even my dick seemed determined to come back to life. 

It seemed someone was sleeping in my bed! 

I got into bed and scooted over to the body that was huddled in the center of the mattress. I ran a palm over his shoulder. It was cool to the touch. 

"It's all right, babe, I'll warm you up." I ran my tongue over his spine and followed the vertebrae up to the base of his skull. "I've wanted you for such a long time now!" Nudging the hair out of the way, I opened my mouth and bit down gently. His chest and groin were covered with a sticky fluid that was cooling, and I laughed softly. "Couldn't wait for me, could you?" 

I brought my hand to my mouth and was about to lick the fluid. 

Wait a second. I nudged Jim's hair off his neck? Jim's hair wasn't that long. And his taste was way off. I mean, I didn't know what he tasted like, but I knew what he smelled like, and his taste should be somewhat similar. Follow what I'm saying? Good, 'cause I'm not sure I do! 

Was I having another fantasy, and not even realizing it this time? 

Lightning lit up the room, and I stared in horror at the blond hair that was sifting into my mouth. My hand was still around his torso, and I tugged lightly to get him onto his back. His head lolled obscenely. And then that goddamned, fucking lightning flashed again. 

A wound gaped in this throat, so deep I could see the white of bone. Blood was streaked over his chest. I stared in horror at my hand, which was covered with gore. 

And I shot out of that bed, screaming. Like a girl. 

I was heading for the door that separated me from my Sentinel when it flew open so hard it hit the wall and bounced. Backlit by the lantern, that hard body in silhouette, Jim stood there, the hand that wasn't holding his gun clenching, his eyes scanning the room to find the cause of my cries. 

I threw myself at him, practically climbing his body in my effort to get closer to him. His arms came around me, holding me tight, and my legs wrapped around his waist. I buried my face in his neck. 

"Easy, Chief. Easy. I've got you." One arm was under my butt, supporting my weight. 

As if I'd ever unwind my legs. 

I burrowed closer to him, while his other hand stroked over my hair and down my back, trying to calm me. 

I was finally where I had wanted to be for months now. And I couldn't freaking enjoy it because that asshole of a lawyer had gotten himself killed! 

And to top it off, I was starting to get hard! How sick was that? I had to maintain some kind of control and climb down from Mount Ellison, or he'd be discovering for himself the major jones I had for him. I sighed, and I felt Jim shudder as the warmth of my breath tickled his ear. 

"I'm okay now, big guy. Sorry." I unhooked my feet from behind his back and started to slide down his body. "I just wasn't expecting..." 

Jim seemed reluctant to let me go, and I gazed at him questioningly. He brushed the hair out of my eyes and brought his hand around to tip my chin up. 

"What was that all about, Chief? And how come your room smells like a slaughter house?" 

"I found the lawyer in my bed." 

"Son of a _bitch_! That sleaze came on to you? I knew there was something about him that I didn't trust! I'll kill the motherfucker!" 

"Not necessary, Jim." I shuddered again and held out my blood stained hands. "Somebody already did." 

* * *

Jim went back to his room to get the cell phone out of his jacket pocket. He flipped it open to call the local police. Only the phone wasn't working. 

The battery was dead. Of course. Why wouldn't it be? It seemed nothing could fucking work in this hell house. 

"All right, we'll take the truck and drive to that little town we passed before we got here," Jim said. "Let me just verify that the shyster's dead." 

"Excuse me? Do you think I am incapable of telling whether a human being is dead or alive?" 

"Now, don't get pissed, Chief. _I'm_ the detective here." He went to the bed while I retrieved the lantern from the bathroom and turned up the wick. 

"You've got _that_ right, Ellison. You are a dick!" 

"I heard that, Sandburg." 

"Yeah? Well, bite me!" I held up the lantern and let the light fall over the upper portion of Neumann's body. 

His eyes stared sightlessly up at the ceiling, and the blood that had pooled on the bed was starting to congeal. I shivered as I thought of the force necessary to rip a man's throat like that. 

Jim was breathing shallowly through his mouth. "Um, yeah, he is dead, Chief." 

"No shit, Sherlock! I'd like to know how he got in my bed. I wasn't in the bathroom that long, and I would have seen them if they brought him in through the door. What?" I demanded irritably. 

"You...uh...you were in the bathroom quite some time, Blair." He was studying something on the floor, so he didn't see the wary glance I sent his way. 

"How do you know how long I was in there? I checked and you were sleeping!" 

"Was I?" Jim squatted down and lowered the lantern. I could see what had aroused his attention. A trail of blood was leading from the closet door to my bed. He touched his finger to the shimmering droplets, then brought it to his nose and sniffed. 

"This is really fresh." He got to his feet and opened the door. I was peeking over his shoulder. It wasn't a closet. Stairs were leading down to vanish in the dimness beyond the lantern's glow. "You want to give me some room here, Chief?" 

I latched onto the waistband of his shorts and yanked back, _hard_. "You are so not going in there, man!" 

"Sandburg. Unhand my boxers." 

"I saw those stairs, Jim. They only go down, and whoever killed Neumann is at the other end." A sudden thought hit me. "No wonder I had the feeling someone was watching me when I was searching the basement. The killer must have been hiding in a concealed stairway like this one!" 

"Why didn't you tell me about that?" His voice was very cool. 

I dropped my eyes. "I...didn't want you to think I was a scaredy cat." 

"Chief." I didn't realize how close his mouth had gotten to mine, until I felt his breath on my lips. "I'd never think that of you." 

"You wouldn't?" As declarations of love go, it left a lot to be desired. All right, it wasn't exactly a declaration of love, but it was better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. 

Pretty pathetic, huh? 

"No, Blair. Now, get dressed. I'll get the keys to the truck, and you can drive to that town and notify the police." 

Uh oh. Bad feeling time. "Why am I driving, Jim? Tell me it's because you're too tired. Tell me it's because you hate to drive in the rain. Hell, tell me it's so you can rag me about my driving. Do _not_ fucking tell me it's because you plan on staying here and looking for a crazed killer by yourself." 

"Okay, Chief. I won't tell you that." 

I looked at him suspiciously. "Then you're coming with me?" 

"No, I'm staying here." 

"I hate you, Ellison. I really, truly, honest-to-God hate you! Okay, fine. Let me put on a pair of sweats and my Nikes, and we can go looking for a crazed killer together!" 

* * *

Of course, we didn't find anyone. The blood trail ended at a blank wall. There had to be a way to open it, but we didn't have enough light to search for it. Besides, the only place it could lead was out into the rain. 

Jim decided the better part of valor was driving into town and letting the local police handle it, so he got the keys to his truck and we made a dash to it, getting drenched. 

Five minutes later we were back in the house. Someone had let the air out of all the tires. 

Jim carried on more about the bastard who had the temerity to touch his 'sweetheart' than he did about me winding up in bed with a dead lawyer. I was a little hurt. 

Bed. That was another thing. "Um, Jim. I'm not sleeping in my room." 

He looked at me blankly. "Of course not." I opened my mouth to argue that I couldn't sleep in another room, because we didn't have any more sheets, but he turned away and started up the stairs. "You're sleeping with me." 

"I am?" My voice would have done a mouse proud. Very softly, _very_ softly under my breath I whispered, "Cool. I am!" 

I tiptoed into my room to retrieve my duffle. Don't ask me why I tiptoed. God _knew_ I wasn't going to disturb the dead guy in my bed. 

I changed in the bathroom and entered Jim's room. I shoved the duffle into a corner, then tried to be real casual about walking across the floor to the side of the bed that was not occupied. 

"Blair?" 

"Yes, Jim?" I was settled comfortably under the covers. 

"You forgot to turn down the lantern." 

"Shit!" I threw back the blanket and stalked to the bathroom. I would _not_ give him the satisfaction of asking why he couldn't do that little task, especially since he was closer! 

I could feel his eyes on me. The flannel boxers I wore hung low on my hips, and I knew the hair that arrowed down to my groin was visible. I almost hoped the boxers would slip and give the big jerk an eyeful. 

Fortunately, they were loose enough to conceal my half-hard state. 

I got back in bed, determined to wrestle my libido into submission. I could feel the tension radiating off him. This was not the time to zone into another fantasy. "Um, night Jim." I turned my back to him. All that stood between me and being thrown out of my Sentinel's life was the death grip I had on the edge of the mattress. 

Sure he had teased me. And like I said, he was a real touchy-feely kind of guy. But he never gave any indication that he wanted more than that. 

And that was okay by me. Really it was. I could stand being celibate for the rest of my life. 

Whoa, where did _that_ thought come from? 

But when I considered it from every angle, I had to accept it. If I couldn't have Jim, I didn't want anyone else. 

I didn't know if I could stand seeing him with other people, but as long as I could have him in my life, I was willing to give it my best shot. I'd keep my feelings locked deep in my heart, and be the best goddamned guide a Sentinel ever had. 

* * *

I hadn't been kidding when I told Jim that I hated cold and wet. That was why I wore layers and layers of flannel, right down to my shorts. And why my bed was buried under a ton of blankets. 

I had been soaked to the skin twice that night, and I didn't have much hope of losing the chill that felt bone deep. Of course, finding a dead lawyer in your bed would make for a disturbing night, also. Normally I'd toss and turn, and that would warm me up a bit, but I didn't dare move a muscle in case I disturbed Jim and he kicked me out of bed. 

So I closed my eyes, fully intending to count Chopecs, but instead I slid into a deep, easy sleep. 

I was so toasty warm that I arched into the heat. Palms stroked over the hair that covered my chest, seeking out my nipples and teasing them to pebble-hardness. A finger curled in my nipple ring and tugged gently, and the sensation zinged right to my groin. I hummed with pleasure. 

A hand lifted the hair off my neck and lips followed the curve over my adam's apple, tilting my head back and fastening just under my jaw. Gently they began to suck, and in some fog-bound realm I knew that would leave a mark, but I didn't care. I tipped my head back further, offering more of myself to this dream lover. 

"Blair." My name was a sigh whispered in the night. 

"Jim." I was enveloped in warmth. "Love you, man." 

* * *

A heavy arm was lying across my hip, keeping me in place. I snuggled deeper into that marvelous heat. Sometime during the night I had had the world's most fantastic dream. 

And then my eyes flew open. 

I recalled the events of the night before: finding the body in my bed, the truck's flat tires, and having to spend the night in Jim's bed because there was nowhere else for me to sleep. 

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. If Jim woke up and discovered he was cuddling _me_ , his guide, his _male_ guide, his _gay_ male guide, I would be so dead. There wouldn't be a word to describe how dead I would be. 

Very carefully I lifted his arm up and slid out from under it. He grumbled in his sleep, reaching for me. At least, I _wanted_ him to be reaching for me. I stuffed my pillow into his arms. 

It was still raining, but the sky had lightened with the dawn. I grabbed some clothes out of my duffle and stumbled into the bathroom to get dressed. 

My reflection in the flyspecked mirror, which I could barely make out in the dim light, looked rested. Scruffy, but rested. I ran a hand over my cheek, trying to decide if I should shave now or wait until after breakfast. Remembering there was no running water, that decision was quickly taken care of. 

I went downstairs and visited the little boys' outhouse. 

Returning to the comparative warmth of the kitchen, I used some bottled water to wash my hands, and scrambled up some eggs for myself. Despite what I've told Jim on occasion, I felt the need for a little cholesterol. Ah, hell, a lot of cholesterol. I fried up some bacon as well. 

The toast was browning nicely on the little rack I had for it, when I noticed the set of antlers in the dining room. They must have been about forty inches from tip to tip, and I began to understand how William Bonney had gotten his nickname Buck. Even the kitchen had antlers over the door to the backyard. 

What a waste. 

I heard footsteps on the stairs and cracked four eggs into a bowl and began whisking them with a fork. 

"Morning, Chief." Jim's voice was almost a drawl. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his ice blue eyes sultry in the watery light of the new day. 

"Jim." I had to clear my throat, and try again. "Jim. I'm making scrambled eggs, is that okay with you? I'd make egg foo yong for you but..." I gestured around the kitchen, waving my hands helplessly. 

Why was I suddenly babbling? 

"Scrambled is fine, babe." 

Babe? 

"Uh, _babe_ , Jim?" 

He walked toward me. I backed away. He kept coming. I hit the backdoor; there was no place else for me to go. I shivered as his fingers stroked over my throat. 

"Looks good on you, Chief." His hands closed over my shoulders. I tilted my head up and let my eyes drift shut, sure he was going to kiss me. 

He moved me to the side and opened the door, going out in the rain. I watched as he made his way to the outhouse, and kicked irritably at a cabinet. 

Well, _hell_! What had that been all about? 

* * *

While Jim was making inroads on his breakfast, I took a bottle of water and went upstairs to shave. I wet my face and squirted a dollop of shaving cream into my palm, then lathered up my face. Pulling the skin taut, I ran the razor over my cheeks and chin. And then I tilted my head back to shave my throat. 

I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror in growing shock. Carefully I put down the razor and touched the livid bruise just under my jaw. 

That's what Jim had stroked in the kitchen! It had been there all the time. Why the fuck hadn't I noticed it? 

Oh shit. Oh hell. Oh fuck! It had _not_ been a dream! 

"Hey, Chief, get your ass down here! I've got an idea!" 

Jim was standing in the doorway of the parlor/sitting/whatever the fuck it was room, staring thoughtfully up at the deer head when I came downstairs, so shaken I nearly walked to the back of the house instead of the front. 

"Y'know something, Chief? There are a lot of racks of antlers in this house, but this is the only one that has the entire head." 

"Yeah?" My fingers went back to that spot under my jaw. I couldn't help but be extremely conscious of the mark my roommate had placed on my neck. "And your point is...?" 

He looked at me impatiently, and then lost that impatience when he saw the tilt of my head. "Chief..." 

"Why, man? If you wanted to make a fool of me, fine, but why'd you mark me so anyone can see it? There's no way I can hide this thing! And don't tell me they'll think I'm some kind of macho stud who got my girlfriend so hot she did that to me! _I'll_ know you're the one who put it there!" 

"I'm...I'm sorry, Chief. Would it help if I said I couldn't resist you?" 

"Really?" I wanted to hit him. I wanted to curl my hand into a fist and punch him right on that perfect nose of his. "I fucking _hate_ it when you say shit like that! How do you expect me to hold on to a good mad, when ... You really couldn't resist me?" 

He walked toward me, and it suddenly dawned on me how big he was. We did a repeat of the dance in the kitchen. For every step he took forward, I took two back. Well, his legs are longer than mine. Okay, not funny, but I was on the verge of hysteria, and I was grasping at straws. 

I mean, look at this logically. If that dream I'd had the night before was anything to go by, at some point my Sentinel had put his hands on my body. He had cradled me in his arms, tugged my nipple ring, fondled the curls that covered my chest, and sucked on my neck hard enough to leave a mark. 

A mark? Let's not be coy, shall we? It was the love bite to end all love bites. A majorly serious hickey. It was hickelicious! In Latin it would be called hickeymus maximus. 

It was... sorry, more information than you really wanted, huh? 

But all that ruminating cost me the chance to get away from the big guy. I found myself backed against a wall. Jim bent his knees just enough to line our cocks up, and then leaned into me. I felt as if I had clutched a live wire in my hand. Every nerve ending in my body short-circuited. 

My arms went around his neck and I clung to him. And then he kissed me. 

* * *

"Okay, we've agreed this is not the time or the place." I was still shaking, not only from the revelation of Jim's kisses, but from the softly worded confession of his long-standing desire for me. I ran my tongue over my lips and tasted him there. "Let's get the local authorities in on this so we can get the flats fixed and I can get you home and into bed." 

Jim was grinning at me, but all he said was, "Yes, dear." 

I cupped his jaw in my palm, tempted to snatch one more kiss. We'd been rolling around on the floor, kissing and groping, and performing what the French like to call 'frottage', but fortunately we had stopped before I ruined another pair of pants. Although I _really_ wouldn't have minded... 

My partner got to his feet and extended his hand to me. I turned it over and licked his palm before I let him get me upright. He pulled me flush against him and his hand went down to cup my ass. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're paying me back for marking you as mine!" 

"Is that what I'm doing?" I asked innocently. He growled low in his throat, but his eyes kept straying up to the trophy on the wall. "So what's up with the buck's head, Jim?" 

"Buck always said he kept his money in his head. Simon's words." 

I blinked slowly. "And you think maybe that's where it is, in that deer head? That's stretching, man!" 

"Yeah, it probably is just a figure of speech. But still, we're here. What's the harm in checking it out?" 

I was already crossing to the dining room and looking for a stable chair. I dragged it back and placed it before the fireplace. "You'll have to do the honors, Jim. I don't stick my hand in anything that's needed the services of a taxidermist." 

"Sure, Chief. And besides, you're too short!" He was grinning at me, and I'd have sworn his eyes were caressing that mark he'd put on me. No, that couldn't be right. I was just sensitive about knowing it was there. I was being self-conscious. I was...hell, I was dead right! 

He planted his lips over that spot and suckled it gently. "Just so you don't forget you're mine!" 

_As if_! 

He climbed onto the chair and gently forced the lower jaw of the buck's head open. "Buck," he addressed the glass eyes. "I'm going to put my hand in your mouth. _Don't_ bite it! This is the hand I intend to jerk Blair off with!" 

"That is _so_ not funny, Ellison!" I muttered, and he gave a huff of laughter. 

"Okay, now, here we go!" His hand disappeared into the deer's mouth, then his wrist. "Hey! There's something loose in here!" 

"Yeah? I bet its tongue is peeling. How long do you think that poor animal has been stuck on the wall of a whorehouse?" 

"Wait...wait a second!" Jim went up on his toes to alter the angle of his wrist and all of a sudden a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. It was followed by another, and another, until a rain of legal tender poured from the buck's mouth. 

"Jim! Holy shit! These are five thousand dollar Federal Reserve Notes! I didn't even know they had bills this high!" I was on my knees gathering up the money. 

He looked down at me. "They stopped printing these babies in 1945. I'd like to know if Buck Bonney really had some Feds in his pocket to get these!" 

"I could answer that!" 

A dapperly dressed man stood in the doorway. He looked eerily familiar, and he was pointing a...yeah, you guessed it, he had a cannon. "Who are you?" 

"Not that it will matter much to you, since I'm afraid I'll have to kill you, but I'm Paul, Alfred's older brother. Where is he, by the way? I left him here while I went into town to take care of some business. He was supposed to find a way to convince you to leave so we could search this mausoleum." 

I tried to stand, but lost my balance and fell against Jim's legs. "Sorry, big guy." My hand slid under the cuff of his trousers. "Your brother's upstairs." 

Neumann sighed. "His nerves? Alfred never should have gotten involved with a man like William Bonney. Bad to the bone, I'm afraid, although I dislike speaking ill of the dead." He waved the gun at Jim. "Oh, please, do finish removing those. You," he meant me, "I'm afraid I'll have to shoot you now." 

"Nope," I said, pointing Jim's ankle piece at the other man. "I don't think so!" 

There was an explosion. Paul looked surprised for a second, and then affronted. And then he was dead. 

"Well, _fuck_ , Chief! You didn't have to kill him!" 

I looked up at my Sentinel. "I _didn't_!" I said indignantly 

"No, I did!" Another punk had come in from the back of the house. 

"Well, _hell_ , what is this, old home week?" I groused. I obeyed the newcomer's motion with his automatic and tossed Jim's spare piece onto the floor next to where the older Neumann lay. "Did you bump off Alfie?" 

"The shyster? Nah, he ain't worth the trouble, though now I'll have to do something about him, since I iced his brother...wait a second, you said he's already been offed?" 

Jim decided it was time to add to the confusion. "Oh, this is the last of the money, sir." His voice was about three octaves higher, and his hand fluttered at his throat. "Please don't shoot us!" He wavered on the chair. "Oh, SnuggyBlair, I... I think I'm going to faint!" 

The wiseguy curled his lip as my Sentinel toppled over into my arms. I let him take me to the floor, absorbing the brunt of the spill while he pulled his pistol and got off a couple of rounds, enough to shoot the gun out of the hood's hand and incapacitate him. 

"Nice going, snugs." 

"Jiimmm!" 

"Come on. We can use this creep's wheels to get us into town and let the Feds deal with it." 

"Hey, hey, hey!" the creep whined. "I got my rights! You're bending the suit!" 

"Shut up!" I snapped as Jim dragged him out. "You want to hear your rights? You have the right to my size 8 1/2 Nike up your ass. You have the right to sing the blues. You have the right...come on, you have to know this!" 

"Chief? Let me handle this, would you?" 

"Geez, Jim. You never let me have any fun!" 

"SnuggyBlair...!" 

I surrendered. "Yes, dear." 

* * *

We went back to Hecate House with the local authorities, who brought along a meat wagon for Alfred Neumann and his brother Paul. 

They also brought a flatbed tow truck for Jim's 'sweetheart.' Because the house was now a crime scene, we had to vacate the premises. While the police were dusting for prints and searching for the knife that had killed the lawyer, we answered questions at Lansdale PD. 

When they were done with us, they thanked us kindly and hinted that it would be best for all concerned if we left town as soon as possible. They were already racking up the shyster's death as a falling out among thieves, and it looked as if the hood who Jim had shot was going to take the fall for it, although he swore up and down that he was innocent. 

And the weird thing was that I kind of believed him. I didn't know of any knife that could rip out a man's throat the way that Alfie's had been. 

Well, not my concern! All I wanted was Jim's bod in my bed. The rest of the world could go hang. 

We went to Joe's Garage to see how they had progressed with filling the pick-up's tires. 

"Yo! You the guy who owns that sweetheart of a blue '69 pickup truck?" 

You wouldn't have believed the smile that crossed my roommate's face. He had just found a new best friend! "Yeah, she's mine!" 

"Well, I got some bad news, and some _bad_ news for you." 

Jim scrubbed his hand over his face. "Why aren't I surprised? Every time I go anywhere with you, Sandburg..." 

"Hey, I didn't do anything!" 

"You did, Chief." He leaned over to whisper in my ear. "You made me love you!" While I tried to string together a coherent thought after that statement, Jim was back to questioning the mechanic. "Okay, Mac. Why don't you let me have the bad news first?" 

The grease monkey took the toothpick he had been chewing on out of his mouth and pointed it toward the tires. "Bad problem: these tires didn't have the air let out of them. They've been slashed. Someone stuck a shiv into 'em, and did a damned good job of making them nothing but recyclable junk." 

I could see Jim's blood pressure start to rise. He had just bought those tires; they weren't even a month old. And considering the trouble he had to get them, I'd a nagging feeling I knew what the _bad_ news was. 

Breathing heavily through his nose, Jim tried to dial down his anger. "All right. What's the _bad_ news?" 

The guy shrugged. "Don't have these models in stock. I can order 'em for you. It'll take about a week to ten days for them to get in." 

Yep, that was it! 

"Shit! And Simon said he wanted us back by the beginning of the week, at the latest." Taking deep breaths, Jim began to calm down. "All right, Mac. Order the freaking things. I'll have to rent a car and come back after you have the tires on the truck." The mechanic was shaking his head. "What?" That was the closest I had ever heard my roommate come to a whine. 

"Sorry. Don't have a rental place here in Lansdale. Though there is one a couple towns over, in Baskerville. They're crooks over there, though. You don't want to deal with them." 

Jim began to grind his teeth. 

"Uh, thanks, Mac. Go ahead and order the tires. We'll let you know where we'll be." I grabbed my Sentinel's sleeve and dragged him away from there before he could commit mayhem on the hapless mechanic. 

"Where are we going, Chief?" 

I gave a sigh of relief. He didn't sound as ballistic as moments before. "We're going to get a room and then call Simon and let him know what's going on." I had seen a small motel on the road leading into town, and I headed in that direction. "Do you think the Captain will give us some time off?" 

He gave me an exasperated look. "Have you ever known Simon to willingly give any of us some time off?" He held the door of the motel office open for me, and I walked in, keeping an eye on the big guy. 

A pretty teenager stood behind the counter. "Can I help you gentlemen?" 

"We'd like two... _What_?" I snarled as Jim gave me a sharp poke in the back. 

"We'll never get reimbursed for two rooms, Chief. Do you have one room with two queen sized beds?" he asked the girl. 

She looked from him to me and back again. "No, I'm sorry. But we've got one king." She pushed the registration pad toward Jim, but I grabbed it. 

"You're here because of me. _I'm_ picking up the check on this one!" While I filled it out, I worried about the sheets. I didn't spend much time in motels, but I had been in enough of them to know the sheets bothered _my_ skin. I didn't even want to think how my Sentinel would react to the scratchy material. 

Of course, he could always sleep on me. I wouldn't object. 

My face was flushed when I thrust the card across the counter and took the key from her. Jim glanced at me curiously, but I pretended I was listening to the directions to get to our room. 

Good thing there was only one long row of doors. Otherwise I would have gotten us lost for sure! 

* * *

"That could have gone better," Jim sighed as we left the motel room. 

"I _knew_ Simon didn't like me." 

"Whoa, Chief, where did that come from? _I_ was the one he was dressing down!" 

"Yeah, but only because you wouldn't put me on the phone. Hell, Jim, he was yelling loud enough that I didn't need Sentinel hearing to understand every word he said!" 

"Well, at least he's going to make sure we get those tires!" 

"So he says. I had no idea Fed Ex was so diversified! If we're really lucky, they should be delivered sometime tomorrow, and we'll be on our way home the day after." 

We walked through the chill drizzle to a Sears that was just across the road from the motel. As I had feared, the motel's linens were too rough for Jim to tolerate. I told him I would spring for a set of flannel sheets, just so I wouldn't have to listen to him bitching all night long. 

Actually, I was doing it simply because I cared about the man. He was my Sentinel, I was his Guide. 

And all kidding aside, buying him something that made him comfortable was the least of what I was willing to do for him. 

_I would gladly have died for him_! Think that's overly dramatic, do you? It's the truth. 

After we got the sheets, we decided to shop for some clothes, just enough to last us until our stay in Lansdale came to an end. I know, it's not a guy thing, but I never had so much fun, selecting shirts that brought out the blue of his eyes. 

There was a small diner that was across the road from the department store. In the windows were symbols of the holiday. Silhouettes of witches, pumpkins and black cats were whimsically displayed. We dodged the sparse traffic and climbed the short set of steps to reach the door. 

Jim pulled it open, and we walked into the welcome warmth of the little restaurant. A number of people were scattered in the booths, at the tables and sitting at the counter, and they looked up to observe us, then turned back to continue their meals. 

The woman behind the cash register glanced up from a book she was reading and smiled at me. "Take a booth wherever you'd like, hon. I'll send one of the girls right down to you." 

"Thank you." I shook the rain out of my hair and returned her smile, then noticed the title of the book she was reading. "A biography of Richard Burton? The explorer or the actor?" 

She looked interested. "The actor." 

I gave her a halfhearted smile. 

"Wrong Burton," Jim murmured, and he nudged me further into the diner. 

I picked a booth and slid into it. My Sentinel sat down across from me, and a young waitress, who looked enough like the girl at the motel to be her older sister, brought us the menus. 

"Can I get you guys something to drink?" 

"Red wine?" I asked, uncertain if they served it. She nodded. 

"I'll have the same," Jim said and opened his menu. He cast a jaundiced eye over the selections. "I could really go for some egg foo yong." 

"I didn't see a Chinese restaurant in this town. Live a little!" I encouraged him. "It looks like they have something called buffalo burgers." 

"Chief, if I wanted a Wonderburger, I could get that at home." 

"No, seriously, it's made from buffalo! See?" I pointed out the item on the menu. 

"Uh, no." 

"Then..." 

Our waitress was back with two glasses of red wine over ice. Jim looked pained. 

"What'll it be, guys?" 

"I'll have the boiled tongue." 

Jim pulled a face, then smiled up at the girl. "I'd like the taco salad with extra sour cream and extra salsa, please." She grinned back at him and went to place our orders. 

"Geez, Jim," I griped. "Why not just hook up an IV and let the lard drip directly into your veins?" 

"Nice imagery, Sandburg!" he grimaced and took a sip of his wine. "So. You want to talk about what happened at the House?" 

Unconsciously, I touched the mark on my throat. If I kept my chin down I told myself it wasn't noticeable. 

Like hell it wasn't noticeable. It fairly shouted 'sex toy!' 

"You think this is a good place for that?" 

"Not that, Chief." Jim's lips parted in such a voracious expression that I almost swallowed my tongue. My cock got so hard so fast that if the table had been lower I would have banged myself into it. 

"Oh. Yeah, sure. I knew that." 

His hand was reaching for mine, but stopped halfway across the table, and he began to trace patterns on the tabletop. 

"That wall we ran up against in the basement? I want to go back and check it out." 

I felt the blood drain from my face. If there was one thing I did not want to do, it was go back to Hecate House. As a matter of fact, I had made up my mind to unload it as soon as we got back to Cascade. I didn't care if I took a bath on it. 

Oh, wait a minute: this was an inheritance! _Everything_ I made on this would be gravy! That thought had me grinning happily to myself as I thought of all the clothes I intended to buy Jim, only so I could strip them off his luscious body. 

"Listen, big guy..." 

"Okay, here's the tongue." The young waitress slid the plate in front of me. "And the taco salad." The smile she gave Jim made me want to bitch slap her. 

But my Sentinel was busy scooping sour cream onto seasoned meat, diced tomatoes, sliced olives, and grated cheese, and he never noticed her flirtatious expression. I switched my frown of disapproval to him as I began to eat. 

"Listen, Jim," I repeated. "I don't think it's a good idea to go back to that place. Simon said bad things have happened there." 

"Chief, there's something about that blank wall..." 

"You're going back there, aren't you, no matter what I say?" He nodded, and I sighed. "Fuck it. All right, can we at least do it in daylight?" 

"Blair, I can do this alone." 

"Maybe. But you won't." I put a forkful of tongue into my mouth and chewed resolutely. "Because if you do, I'll have you arrested for trespassing! Jim, please. I'll get down on my knees if I have to! Don't make me wait behind!" 

His eyes grew hot and he reached across to wind a strand of my hair around his finger and tug gently. His voice was very soft. "Do you know what it does to me when you beg, Chief? And that image of you on your knees..." 

The fork fell from my fingers. "How hungry are you, Jim?" 

"I'm starving." He chuckled softly as my face fell. "For you, babe!" He signaled to the waitress. "Check, please!" 

* * *

While Jim was showering, I stripped the bed and replaced the sheets and pillowcases with the ones we had purchased. Royal Stewart plaid, red, white, blue, yellow and green. I hoped it wouldn't hurt my...roommate's eyes. 

He came out of the bathroom rubbing a towel over the smooth, hairless planes of his chest, and my mouth went dry. A towel was knotted at his hip, and the long line of his thigh was exposed at every other step. 

"Uh. I'll just be a ...It'll only take me a... Yeah!" I bolted into the bathroom and closed the door behind me, leaning against it and cursing myself for being every kind of a fool. I mean, how gauche, how jejune, was that? 

I sighed and sat down to remove my boots. They landed on the floor with a solid thud, and then I stood to work on the numerous layers of clothes I wore. 

As I twisted the taps and tested the temperature of the water, I mused that this would be an ideal time for another fantasy. 

But that wouldn't be necessary, because outside that door was the living, breathing embodiment of every fantasy I had indulged in since Jim Ellison let me move into his apartment. 

I showered in record time, and dried myself as quickly as I could. My cock was hard and leaking precome, and I licked my lips, impatient to get to my lover. I reached into the pocket of my sweats and removed the tube of lubricant I had slipped into it. Just another purchase from the softer side of Sears, one that Jim had not been around to observe. 

Propping my foot on the tub, I squirted some of the cream on my fingers and prepared my hole. I didn't want to waste a single minute. I could still hardly accept my unbelievable good fortune in that he seemed to want me too, and right now I needed to have my Sentinel in my body as soon as I could get him there. 

That first finger stroked right across my prostate, and I had to bite my lip to restrain a groan. I was so sexually excited that I knew much more teasing, and I'd come all over the bathroom. I grabbed a towel and draped it artistically from one side of my body to the other, then flung open the door and posed against the frame. 

To be greeted by a window-rattling snore. 

Well, _hell_! There was the man whose fine bod I had lusted over for months, and he was sound asleep! 

I was depressed! 

The big lug was spread out across the bed, taking up most of the space, and the sheet was pooled at his groin. 

I threw aside my towel and snapped off the bathroom light. With a heavy sigh, I crossed the room. My Sentinel chose that moment to mumble in his sleep and roll over, and I drew in a sharp breath. The muscular curves of his ass were revealed to my avid eyes. 

Carefully, I pinched the sheet between thumb and forefinger and lifted it off his legs. Oh, God! he was beautiful! One leg was bent at the knee, and I could see the heavy weight of his balls, dusted with wiry brown hair. The pucker of his opening was hidden in the crevice of his buttocks, and I suddenly found myself desperate to see it. 

Gently, I parted the curves, and he was as perfect there as the rest of his body. I glared down at my dick, which had gotten even harder on seeing this private part of him. "Down boy!" I ordered it softly, but my erection decided that if I couldn't get fucked, it wanted to do the fucking! I shivered and tried to battle down my lust. 

All right, I bargained with myself: one touch, just _one_ touch, and then we were going to sleep. Letting my fingertips barely graze his spine, I traced the line of Jim's backbone, feathered over his ass, and brushed the tempting hole that beckoned to me. 

I was pulling my fingers away when I realized they were covered in lubricant. And it was not the hand I had used on myself. 

Jim had prepared himself for me? All right, how farfetched is that? 

And how much did I care, when I saw the condom sitting innocently on the night table beside the bed, the lube next to it? I tore open the packet and rolled it on with trembling fingers. Sweat was starting to drip from my temples as I coated the latex barrier. 

"Jimmy, I hope this is what you had in mind, because if it isn't, you're going to kill me dead!" I slid a finger deep within him, to find him slick and ready for me. He gave a muffled sigh as I found his prostate, and I quickly replaced my finger with the head of my cock. 

For a moment there was resistance, and then I was in that hot, clinging grip. I rocked my hips forward and found the rhythm that gave us both maximum pleasure. "That's it, Chief! Fuck me!" 

He was awake? He had always been awake? 

We had started on our sides, but suddenly I found myself lying on him, his hands reaching back to fondle the curves of my ass, fingering the sensitive skin behind my balls, teasing the join of ass and thigh, crossing over my hole. Words and sounds spilled from his mouth, encouraging me, spurring me on, and I went wild. 

I drove into him, deeper, harder, and his inner muscles rippled in a caress that seemed to demand the most powerful response I could give him. I backed onto my knees, and pulled him up with me. What can I tell you? I may be short, but I'm wiry! And while one hand toyed with his nipples, the other found his cock and smeared the precome it was oozing over its length. As I jerked him off, my lips claimed the spot just below where his shoulder and neck joined and suckled strongly to mark him as mine. 

With a deep growl, my lover began to come, filling my hand with spurts of hot liquid. And I bit down harder than I intended and spasmed in the satin grip of his channel. 

I sank back on my knees, taking Jim with me, and I rubbed my cheek over his sweat-slicked back. Somehow, he got his arm around my neck and pulled my head close to his. With his lips a whisper away from mine, he said words I had never thought to hear him say. 

"I love you, Chief." 

* * *

I was spooned along my lover's back, and fell asleep with my arms around him. Jim had turned his head just enough so the words, "I love you, babe," could be whispered against my lips. 

With a satisfied sigh, I fell promptly asleep. 

The dream I was having was absolutely voluptuous, even better than my fantasies. A hair-roughened knee urged my thighs apart, and a tongue stroked up from the skin behind my balls, dipped into my hole and brought me to consciousness with a yelp. 

To find it wasn't a dream. 

I was on my stomach, with Jim laughing softly in my ear. He had discovered that not only had I prepared myself for him, but I had used wild cherry flavored lubricant as well. He got me up onto my knees, and his thick shaft slid easily past the tight ring of muscle, hitting my prostate on the first thrust. My cock was jutting up toward my belly, and Jim had one hand wrapped around it, smearing it with precome and jerking it in time to each hard push into me. 

He encircled my torso with his other arm, hugging me tight as he fucked me. His weight pressed my shoulders down to the mattress, leaving me at a vulnerable angle. But not so vulnerable that I was unable to meet each forward shove with a backwards thrust of my own. 

My gasps quickly turned to whimpers as he drove me closer and closer to orgasm. I clenched my inner muscles in a rhythm that milked the length of him, and we exploded almost simultaneously. 

This time we fell asleep with Jim cradling me. 

Because we were both unused to spending the night with a partner, each time one moved the other awoke, and we would make love once more. 

When we woke the final time, we were sore, exhausted and bleary eyed; covered with semen and lubricant, love bites scattered over random parts of our bodies. We made our way into the bathroom and supported one another as we showered. The heat of the water eased the stiffness of muscles that hadn't been so vigorously used in quite some time. 

"How long, Chief?" 

I didn't pretend to misunderstand him. He wanted to know how long I had wanted him. I pulled on a clean pair of sweats and was on my hands and knees half under the bed looking for my boots. 

Did I really want him to know how pathetic I was, that I had lusted after him from almost the beginning, and had loved him nearly as long? A little obfuscation was obviously called for. "Since you rescued me." 

"Um, that isn't exactly specific, babe. How many times have I saved your sexy butt?" 

He thought my butt was sexy? Well, I mean, of course, he'd have to if he wanted to fuck it, but... I felt a blush cover my cheeks and started to wriggle backwards out from under the bed. 

"When, Chief?" Jim kept pushing for an answer. 

Hands that were so warm I could feel their heat through the material of my sweats cupped my ass. I sighed luxuriously and told him, without thinking, "When you saved me from David Lash, Jim." 

Oh great, that was really smart. I groaned in dismay. 

My lover pulled me to my feet and dragged me into his arms, easily taking possession of my mouth. He licked the smooth lining of my cheek, the rough edges of my teeth, the tip of my tongue. Then he backed me up until I was flush against a wall. 

I looked away, not sure I wanted to see what might be in his eyes, definitely sure I didn't want him seeing what was in my eyes. My hands came up to push my way free of him. Well, that was what my intention was. But the second my palms came into contact with that muscled chest of his, they developed a mind of their own and began to caress him, finding and scraping his nipples to hardened peaks. 

"I like that, babe. I like that a lot." He dipped his head and nudged my chin up. His lips nibbled across that mark he had put on me, and then they sought my mouth again. Gently he brought our lips together. He drew away and I moaned a protest. I opened my eyes to see why he wasn't kissing the stuffing out of me, and moaned again. 

He wasn't kissing me because he was licking those lips that were just a breath away from mine. 

And then he ran his tongue over my lips and he kissed me, a teasing, tantalizing kiss. He alternated between playful nips and hungry swipes of his tongue, all the while making these sounds that told me how hungry he was for me. 

Jim leaned into me, his torso fitted snuggly against my upper body. I wound my arms around his neck and pulled myself against him, rubbing against his groin, trying to urge his arousal closer to mine. "If this is another one of my fantasies, _please_ don't tell me!" I begged him. 

"No fantasy, Chief. This is forever!" 

His big palms stroked down over my back until he reached my butt, my _sexy_ butt! And he took the cheeks in his hands, and squeezed and kneaded. "Jim! If you keep that up, I'm gonna come, man!" I gasped, trying to warn him. 

"Good!" And the next thing I knew, he had my sweats down around my knees and he followed them down. He licked the head of my cock and blew on it, watching my face as I shuddered from the intensity of what I was feeling. 

I had my hands around his head and I stopped him. Well, I tried to stop him. Well...I was going to try to stop him. But he chose that moment to swallow me to the root, and I wound up tugging him closer. Between the sucking and the fluttering and the vibrations from the sounds he made...It was like Vesuvius, Etna and Krakatoa all wrapped into one... 

I was sitting on the floor, staring at my lover dazedly. 

"Chief?" Jim's hand was in my hair, tugging gently at it. "Are you all right?" 

I nodded. 

"And you really do love me?" 

Was he a couple of cans short a six-pack? I glared at him. "Jim, are you terminally stupid? Do you have any idea how long I have been celibate?" 

"Since Maya?" The big detective was drawing away from me. 

"How about since just after I moved in?" 

Jim's mouth hung open and his eyes widened in shocked disbelief. "But...but all those girls..." 

"Protective coloration, man. How could I want them, when I wanted you? I was afraid you'd throw me out on my ass if you ever found out I wanted you in said ass!" 

"I guess that does make us a pair, Chief." He pulled me onto his lap, and something hard poked my thigh. 

"Oh, Jim, I'm sorry!" Before he could say a word, I had his jeans unzipped and his cock out. "Let me take care of that for you!" And then my lips were around him and I was taking him deep in my throat. 

It's so nice to rock someone's world. 

* * *

And that was the long and the short of it. We went back to Cascade and lived happily ever after, fucking like mink every chance we could get. 

Oh. You want to know what happened at Hecate House? 

Sorry, my friends. That's strictly classified. But suffice it to say, I still have nightmares over it! Of course, Jim is always there to hold me until the worst of the shakes pass. 

As for my inheritance... 

Well, as far as I know, it's still standing there, big as life and twice as ugly. 

It belongs to the Federal government now. 

You see, Buck Bonney neglected to pay his income tax. 

Bastard. 

~End~ 

* * *

End It Was a Dark and Stormy Night by Tinnean: Tinneantoo@aol.com

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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